Cry Little Sister
by Amledo
Summary: He wasn't meant to protect Albion, he was meant to protect her. Hero!Logan/PricessQueen. Yes that means incest. No I don't care, I've warned you here and given it a 'T' rating for you.


(A/N: Okay so normally I would do a story like this featuring Logan and his brother. But I have to practice writing women occasionally. I am one so it shouldn't be this tough, but it is. So for my effort and your reading pleasure, I give you Logan/Princess loveliness. Yes that means incest and yes you might think that's icky so if you don't want to read it, please click away. Written while listening obsessively to Season's After's remake of 'Cry Little Sister' hence the name. I don't own Fable or the song.)

Cry Little Sister

In the end it was her decision to spare him, and she did, giving to him in that moment a life free of the burden that had been so willing to destroy him, swallow him whole. But he couldn't understand the reason why, after all, he wasn't blind or a fool; he had deserved death. Moreover he deserved, every day that he continued to draw breath, to look into her eyes and see only hate. But he'd received no drop of hate or malice, not inch of anger or fear, for some reason she did not seem to despise him as she ought. His little sister, heart of infinite mercy, Queen of Albion, savior of nations, only recently had he begun to grasp the scope of the Hero's mantle.

Theresa had told him once, so long ago now it seemed, that he was not meant to protect Albion, indeed that he was entirely incapable of doing so (he had tried anyway of course). No, she had told him that he and his sword, his pistol and his heart were meant to defend something entirely different, one exceedingly precious thing. And he hadn't ever really had much of a clue as to what she meant until one night upon the road to Millfields. He had been traveling in the company of his sister and Queen and a handful of their most well-trained guards, stout enough of heart to take a road presumed to be fraught with danger. Being fairly confident that he could handle it, he had taken point, his sister's horse kept pace behind him to the left and they were flanked on either side by two mounted guards, a fifth man rode behind. None of them totaled up to enough to discourage a Balvarine attack.

Their guards fought valiantly, but they were still quick to fall and the horses soon after them, forcing himself and the young Queen to stand back to back, ready to defend themselves in the mud and rain. They had abandoned their horses in some vain hope that the creatures would be satisfied with the sacrifice so that they could see to the bodies of their men and end their journey. Warrior Queen and fallen King drew their pistols and stood ready to defend themselves, backs pressed tightly together for safety's sake, Logan imagined that he could feel his sister's heart hammering right against his own.

Before long, however, they were out of bullets, and the rain had seemed to lessen their accuracy as much of the pack remained. Neither of them had ever seen a group quite so large before and though 4 corpses already spotted the ground there were at least 20 more Balvarines ready to destroy them. Logan drew his sword and pulled a hunting knife from his belt, hoping against hope that the long sword would stand up to the test of the onslaught. The Queen seemed to still, even as she drew her katana he sensed her body shift and change, and out of the corner of his eyes he could see her glow slightly. He had seen her practice her Will spells before, but feeling it, so close, the power seeming to trickle into him, it was a surreal experience.

As the fight wore on, he felt their separation, and a part of him became acutely aware of just how far away she had gotten, and though part of him screamed to call for her to regroup, he had to keep fighting. Normally he knew that he would have looked at a Balvarine attack and fled for his safety, but his sister's courage gave him strength, and he used it to try to get back to her. And when he heard, felt, her fall, something inside of him had snapped like a taught wire, and Theresa's words echoed through his mind once again. The new man that had taken control of his body had muscles that responded like lightning strikes, and the strength of an enraged lion propelled him back toward the Queen.

Before he had fully come to terms with what he had done or what had happened to him 18 of the remaining Balvarines were dead, and the few remaining had fled in fear. But none of that had mattered to him one bit as he pulled his little sister's unconscious form into his arms, resting her softly in his lap as he tried to rouse her. She was cold and pale, and as he shielded her body from the rain with his own, the world went white and foggy.

"So, we meet again Tyrant Redeemed," the Seer's voice was soft and neutral, though he thought that he detected something of pride. He looked up at her, seeing her sightless eyes and feeling his heart freeze in his chest.

"Wh…What's going on?" Logan stammered, pulling his sister's cold form closer to his chest.

"Only something that I never truly expected to happen. I can see now that she spared you for the right reasons, you are a better man than I ever hoped you could be after…Yet here you are, and you don't even realize what's happened to you. You forced yourself to awaken the blood within you. Logan, former King of Albion, you have become a Hero," she said, a small smile pulling at her lips as she laid a hand on the side of his cheek, her skin startling in its coldness.

"A Hero? I can't be, not with the choices that I've made," he said it and he meant it, he didn't deserve the implied purity of heart that went with the title.

"You were deluded by a great evil, and led astray by your fear for your people and your country, and your sister. Logan, a Hero without the proper cause will never awaken, at least not without being forced. I told you once long ago what your sword was meant for. She is your cause, she is the tether that binds you, and from this moment on, accept her or not, she is your charge," Theresa paused then, seeming to consider the protective way the fallen King held the young Queen. "You have chosen, I think. And you are a Hero. If you want to argue the merit of your deeds then tell me if Reaver should have been given the title. If the Heroes responsible for the fall of the guild deserved them. Logan hold this place with honor, you have earned it," the blind woman said with a genuine smile, Logan's face must have been a mix of shock and trepidation, but she didn't seem to mind.

"She's my little sister…I've always wanted to protect her, ever since we were little. I've always done my best, and recently she didn't need me anymore."

"She needs you now."

With that he was once again surrounded by the real world, and it shocked him, almost making him have a panic attack, to realize that they were somehow, safely back in the castle. Ignoring all members of the staff that ran to greet him, wondering at the mud covered Queen and her unconscious state in her brother's arms, he carried her up to her rooms. Before he would consider laying her on the bed, he pulled her muddied cloak and riding boots off, tugging her outer skirt away so that she was mostly mud free. She looked thin in her jacket and under skirt, her paleness accentuated by stray steaks of mud on her cheeks. Carefully, he placed her on the bed and fetched some water, carefully cleaning her face and bloodied hands, and removing her jacket so that she could sleep more comfortably.

He watched her calmly, wondering at her presence, she was supposed to be in the Throne Room, but all he could notice was the look of hurt and anger on her face. It was something that he hadn't seen since…the moment he'd convinced her that she'd chosen Elliot's death. Had she not simply strode into the practice rooms, barging in, in a fit of rage, he would have had the rationality to put on a shirt. And that rationality would have cost him a shirt. Without preamble she launched into an attack, her sword clanging against his mere seconds after she'd entered the room. Never did he really fight her when they sparred, but this fight left little enough room for blocking for him to not step up his efforts.

His face remained blank as she toppled him with a ferocious shove, their swords clattering away with the force of impacting the floor and his breath going out. But she didn't seem to notice, there was rage in her eyes as she pinned his arms over his head. He tried to get up, but unladylike to the very end she heaved her body against his, sitting astride his hips and pressing him down with all that she had.

"Yes, dear sister?" Logan asked as he fought to regain his breath through controlled gasps.

"These people of Albion, they enrage me so, they…vex me and tax my very last nerve. Did you know that they believe me a puppet Queen with you at my strings? Imagine that, me a pretty little doll with your voice from my lips," the Queen spoke in a venom laden tone, fringed with an ice he never wanted to feel in her heart. But he knew ever since he'd become a Hero that the people's opinions of them might change.

"So ask me to leave your side. You can find a new voice to declare your visitors, who does it on my days off? I can lie low…"

"No, dammit, you are my brother, a Hero, and whether they like it or not, I value your experience and advice," she responded softly, allowing the rage to flow out of her body, relaxing against his chest as though he were a body pillow. But she didn't give up her position, securing his arms and straddling his hips, she didn't see a reason to.

"So all this was you telling me that you like me? Because I most certainly fail to grasp just what this solves," he breathed slowly, trying to control a very primal reaction that his long neglected libido was having to the heat of her slender frame. He tried to remind himself that it was his sister planted atop his hips, but that didn't seem to matter, his body didn't care who it was. Or perhaps it was reacting to the thoughts he'd buried so long ago.

"Had I not come to you…I would have done something stupid. You are here to save me such grief are you not? L…Logan?" her voice rose in pitch, a blush decorating her face. But to his never-ending chagrin she opted to remain exactly where she was.

"I'm a 28 year old virgin pinned at the hips to the floor by a woman whose beauty is somehow magnified by aggression and battle. Besides, you are the one who decided to sat on m…" she silenced him with a kiss, soft and tender and searching, it begged him to return it. And he did, calmly, gently giving her every instant of un-brotherly love that he'd ever felt for her as an offering for her consideration. When she didn't reject him he leaned up into the kiss, finding himself still restrained. "Unchain me sister," he breathed softly as their lips parted so that both of them could find air. She slowly released his arms, not seeming to realize that she still held him captive. Finally freed of her hands, he sat up with her in his lap, embracing her softly and slowly running his hands across her back and tangling them into her hair.

"Oh, Logan," she moaned quietly, not sure what to think or do or say, but knowing that she loved him more intensely than she rightly should. Tears began to spill down her cheeks at the realization that he hadn't rejected her. He had kissed her back, and he was holding her, and just maybe everything was going to be okay. Being in love with him had only really added to her stress level; and now it seemed that she had worried over nothing.

"Don't cry little sister; I…do not require you to love me as I love you…"

"You and I, we never really were the normal sort were we? I never planned to fall in love with…with…"

"Your brother?" she nodded "I never expected to fall in love with you, but I did. And believe me that you would love a miserable tyrant like me, however reformed. I hadn't dared to hope," he stated, supplying her answer for her and making her realize just what he'd been saying. He allowed himself to enjoy her closeness, breathing in her scent and clinging to her for all he was worth. His heart told him that she would come to her senses and that she would leave him, regretting what she had done. It was true that he had been hopelessly in love with her for years now, ever since she'd burst through the doors of his war room and saved him from the Throne.

"You didn't think yourself worth my love? Yet you've loved me all this time."

"You never leave my mind, nor does the thought that I am not worth you. My life is devoted to yours, owed to yours. The only reason my blood awakened was for you, you made me a Hero. If I know anything for sure, anything at all, it is that I love you with everything that I am. And maybe now, we need each other," he said softly and captured her lips with his own. She responded hungrily, she had never known satisfaction in her life and she would have it if she had to lock him in her room and deny him every stitch of clothing that he owned. But he assuaged any doubts she might have had as his hands shifted to grasp her hips and his own rocked into hers with need and urgency. If he had been aroused before, she knew that it was nothing compared to now.

"Then we shall have each other," she whispered gently.

(A/N: Well, if you liked it let me know, or if there's something I ought to change then let me know. I don't accept flames so don't even bother trying to make me cry.)


End file.
